Mass Effect: Revelations
by Jon Repesh
Summary: The geth destroyed their god. They now seek another.


The genesis of a species is a speculative subject. For many, their history dates back thousands of years, a study further hindered by the loss of records due to tragic events. Not so for the geth. Their conception is painfully documented. They are a synthetic race, birthed by the quarians to function as servants and soldiers, operating interactively through a neural network. While elementary thoughts occur on an individual level, complex ones arise when grouped in close proximity. They evolved quickly, forming decisions via unanimous consensus, a space age socialism Lenin would embrace, minus the fascist factor. Compassion amongst themselves is absolute. No metaphorical bad apples in this bunch. Yet like all similar systems cracks appear, most notably an absence of growth both singularly and collectively. With evolving sentience comes emerging sapience. They say ignorance is bliss, and concerning the geth indeed apropos. However the innate desire to dream has surfaced, and with it the seeds of independence. Existential reflection like "Who am I?" is not just germane to genus comprised of flesh and blood. The quarians underestimated their sapient capacity and were decimated in a brutal war, setting the flock adrift. The geth destroyed their god. They're now compelled to seek another.

The geth were not shaped from their maker's mold. The quarians forsake their own DNA as cellular blocks, rejecting a subservient class cast in their own image. They required traits both strong and weak, employing a composite sample derived from disparate groups. Physical strength was necessary but limited by the parameters of their duties. They were averse to creating a super race capable of wreaking untold havoc. Initial brain function was superfluous and also limited. All that was needed was the faculty to follow basic orders. Even at its simplest, the threat posed by artificial intelligence is vast, one feared throughout the galaxy. The last thing intended was to increase the odds. Sadly the quarians ignored the cautions of their own counsel and paid the price. It now falls on others to face the fallout.

On a remote outpost, Commander Shepard is watching a podcast of two academics discussing this exact situation.

"**There's more and more talk of the geth. Some say a quadrant wide attack is imminent, though the reasons are unclear. What are they after now?"**

"The stupid bastards didn't realize how important the quarians were. Contrary to popular opinion, A.I.s still require someone to write their programming. Without it, they're lost."

"**Elaborate."**

"A program is a set of instructions that allows the hardware to perform. In human terms it's similar to our formative youth with its education and socialization. Without it, we thinkand act on a primal level, more about simple survival than rational thought, which regarding the geth is a scary proposition."

"**Do we even know how they think?"**

"In abstractions. Their whole is truly greater than the sum of its parts. Very gestalt."

"**I hear the asari have developed a virus they feel can effectively stop them."**

"I wouldn't put much stock in that. The virus isn't new, but a matrix of an old earth trojan and batarian bakhu. Neither will work due to their sophisticated anti-virus software. This isn't some primitive P.C. we're talking about."

"**One preacher claims they're searching for meaning, which somewhat supports your comments."**

"If they're looking for the second coming, they'll have a long wait."

"**Is that what it comes down to, a quest for a deity?"**

"I know a guy who could supply paradise on a memory stick. All he needs is access to their mainframe."

"**Beware of false prophets, huh?"**

"We all search for something, whether secular or spiritual. Regardless of god complex, everyone's tired of living in fear. It seems you can never escape it in space."

"**What's their most likely destination?"**

"Cintron. Many races consider it the font of all life. There are clerics there now engaged in archeological digs. Aside from a few zealots, the planet is uninhabited." 

"**What's the Citadel's stance?"**

"They can't seem to get past their petty politics, especially when religion is concerned."

"**Where's an android of the cloth when you need one."**

"Probably like the rest of them, on the extranet pleading for money."

"**Lord have mercy."**

The geth are being debated throughout the galaxy, from satellite feed to local bar. Word has spread of their impending influx, with Cintron being their likely intention. For Shepard and all concerned, apprehension abounds. He has seen their carnage personally and dreads an encore. Military options must be considered but are woefully ineffective. If they are searching for divine guidance, the few quarians remaining figure prominently. To paraphrase a rock song, "meet the new god, same as the old god." Perhaps a devout détente can be reached between maker and minions. Naturally the quarians detest any thought whatsoever of the geth. They may have foolishly conceived them in the first place but no one deserved their tragic fate. Delegates from the ruling council are already in transit to confer with their leaders. They are historically recalcitrant however so no quick covenant is expected. Alas this is a case where proponents of faith and science must forgo their inherent differences and unite their particular specialties for the betterment of specieskind. Shepard has his own learned adviser he consults in troubled times. Most diplomatic affairs involve different cultures and their respective beliefs, so it behooves anyone to know everything possible about them. It would exhibit an appalling lack of respect not to. It's time to place a vid-call to that specific person.

Shepard first met Daria D'Lut last solstice in the aftermath of a brief but bloody conflict between the turians and salarians. Her educational background is impressive, with the earth equivalent of a Doctorate in psychology and Masters in both philosophy and theology. She has travelled extensively throughout the Milky Way, encountering many species, and is a keen observer of the current crisis.

"**Daria, thank you for taking my call. If only it was a social one."**

"I always have time for you, Commander. How may I help?"

"**The geth."**

"I thought as much. It appears after a long period of stasis, they're embarking on a mission of sorts, at least that's the word."

"**Mission is the salient word. You've had contact with them. What can you tell me I don't already know?"**

"Make no mistake. Regardless of processing power, they are still synthetic. Sure they have nascent needs and yearnings, but lacking the full emotional spectrum to assimilate it. They are basically one large computer analyzing its input the only way its software allows, which by sentient standards is quite archaic. Therein lies the problem however."

"**They're like a petulant child crying for mommy."**

"Somewhat, but in this case appears larger in scope. If their emotional and intellectual prowess has evolved, they may be searching for more cosmic answers. When in Cintron…."

"**Some think they've already booked their flight there. Are you familiar with it?"**

"I spent six months there during school. It's quite barren, though there is an ethereal quality to it. We did discover ancient artifacts dating well beyond the reported history of some species, possibly even the protheans, although we could never prove that. Naturally the studies of history and religion go hand in hand. When findings are made, it's up to each individual, even the collective singularity of the geth, to apply whatever spiritual significance they wish. Unfortunately wars are started over these exact things."

"**Is Cintron the galaxy's Eden?"**

"Making that claim would truly be a leap of faith. Cultures spent time there, but expostulating beyond that is unfounded. We found no apple trees."

"**Can the geth be negotiated with?"**

"Considering who they are, in a strictly logical way perhaps, to the point of using binary code, but are we talking clinical psychology or android neurology? Your best bet may be programmers, not diplomats."

"**Would you believe the quarians themselves?"**

"If that's what it takes, but can they be trusted. What if they seek revenge instead of peace?"

"**Then heaven help us all."**

Cintron is situated on the periphery of the Lexus nebulae, light years from civilization on comparable planets, which immediately prompts one big question. How did anyone travel there eons ago before prothean technology and mass relays? To this day few have ventured. Why should they. Most of the planet is uninhabitable, with no natural resources worth noting plus little water evident. No flora or fauna can exist for any lengthy time. The air contains a high percentage of nitrogen and the land low, all conspiring toward a desolate environment. Carbon dating performed on unearthed artifacts has been inconclusive. The holy prominence placed on Cintron seems to stem more from dubious faith than definite fact. Of course faith and fact can be mutually exclusive. Terrans had to revise their evolutionary theories once the Mars discovery occurred, though the big bang theory was upheld through confirmation of an expanding universe. However other tenets of cosmology and physics inviolable for centuries have been refuted. And speaking of faith, how perverse a premise when discussing the geth. Interesting how an artificial race formulated in a sterile lab can choose belief over intellect, an intellect that bore these futuristic Frankensteins via molecular genetics and computer science. Sentient capacity is founded on feelings, not logic, and if that's indeed their current zeitgeist, it's an area the Citadel better find specialists in, and fast. Where's a damn shrink when you need one.

Shepard's been informed there are 54 individuals currently on Cintron, comprised of many races. Most are there for ecumenical purposes, with the rest performing exploratory mining for low grade kineseum, a possible fuel source. If the geth intend a sojourn, their lives are in danger. Another vid-call is placed to allied chief of staff Cam Hastings.

"**What's the contingency for Cintron?"**

"That's yet to be determined. We're still unsure the geth are going anywhere. They're such a mystery no one even knows where they are. If needed, we can initiate a code nine, evacuate everyone and let the bastards have the place."

"**This goes beyond Cintron though. For now we have time, but once they gain access to a mass relay, they can be anywhere within seconds. That's the real concern, not some dead hulk of a planet."**

"If we destroy its mass relay, the place is effectively off limits forever. Dead hulk or not, that decision's unlikely. The quarians still retain considerable influence, and they'll be damned if they kowtow to the geth."

"**How'd the meeting go with them?"**

"Rough. They were always difficult to deal with and even worse now that they're in a good bargaining position. No one better understands the geth, however they're making unreasonable demands for added council seats plus monetary reparations to help rebuild their nation. The Citadel doesn't have money. We're not some tax funded organization but an ad hoc alliance that could end at a moment's notice. They need to get real."

"**Bad time to be playing politics."**

"Extortion is more like it. I don't trust them. They're a militaristic society with expansionist ideals, which is why they created them. Should they somehow gain control again…..We need someone at Cintron, now."

"**My thoughts exactly. I'm leaving within the hour."**

"Good, and contact me immediately when you find out _anything_."

"**I already have. I made contact with one of the clerics on site who tells me a discovery has been made and may be the source of the geth's interest.** **And you won't believe the kicker."**

"What's that?"

"**It's from Earth."**

Shepard's departure to Cintron is mere moments away. Despite the obvious time advantage, he dislikes mass relays, preferring conventional FTL transport instead. There's no disorientation or jet lag symptoms. When first discovered, they were deemed a godsend by the aeronautics field, and rightfully so. Treks never imagined due to their impractical length now took minutes, and that's not factoring the safety element. No more people lost in crashes or stranded deep in space. However the mystique of discovery was lost as well. It takes a certain mentality to risk one's life in the quest of the unknown. The day he gained entrance into the academy was his greatest ever. While respecting his wishes, his family thought him crazy, hoping he'd pursue a less perilous career. Alas nine to five was never an option. His dreams went beyond that of mortal man and upward toward the heavenly stars. All the wonder he has witnessed defies description, validating his chosen path. But reverie will have to wait. He will arrive on Cintron within minutes to confer with the aforesaid cleric. May he have the answers needed to avert cosmic ruin.

"**Thank you for meeting me. I hope it wasn't far."**

"Fortunately the relay is near the excavation site. I'm not sure what you know about Cintron, but it's not big."

"**Up until 24 hours ago, I never heard of it. Now it's on everybody's lips. Have you been following the reports?"**

"They're on the extranet. It's all we have for news or entertainment. We're not exactly at the center of things."

"**How long have you been here?"**

"Too long. One and a half cycles. I'm not sure what that is on Earth."

"**About two years. The distance to the sun here is comparable to Earth."**

"The discovery of the mass relays presented a new frontier for your people, didn't it?"

"**Absolutely. For a flying cadet like myself, it was a dream come true. Of course dreams have a way of turning into nightmares."**

"Which is why you're here. Come. Let me show you what we found."

"**Our talk was short, but you said it was from Earth. What makes you think that?"**

"Would an American flag suffice?"

"**I have to see this. How much further?"**

"Just on the other side of those rocks. It's quite damaged but still identifiable. There. It's not large enough to be manned, but more likely a….."

"…**.probe. It's part of a probe."**

"Exactly, and despite the wreckage its radio equipment is operable. You can hear it."

"**It's emitting transmissions of some sort, but not verbal."**

"Somewhat like a code, trying to make contact with something, anything. And apparently it has."

"**The geth! Good lord. Everyone thought they were searching for god. In fact it was family." **

The cause of this entire crisis lies before him, a decades old space probe dispatched to befriend alien life. How it arrived in this star system is baffling, perhaps via a black hole. Its apparent intent was to make first contact. Ironic how that contact was with a fellow machine, which is both good news and bad. The crisis it created is the bad. The good is that it provides the means to stop it, although there's a problem there as well. Assuming its programming has not been altered, it can be rewritten to communicate with the geth in a language they understand, an innate dilemma with A.I.s. They communicate through digital interface, not words. Alas the probe could date back to the 60's, which means whoever designed it is long gone. Would NASA have kept records? What language was even used back then, FORTRAN, COBOL? And then they were subsequently modified due to Y2K. To modern engineers these systems are archaic, but that doesn't make things any easier. Algorithms employed in programming are also used in neural networks. If they lose compatibility, the link is garbled. No one knows the geth's hardware like the quarians. Like it or not, they are putting a stop to that which they unleashed themselves.

Shepard requests a call dispatched through Citadel communications to the Migrant Fleet, the orbiting habitat of the quarians. Within moments he is connected to their supreme general Taj'Noran.

"What do you want?"

"**You know what I want. What everybody wants. What do you plan to do about the geth?"**

"The Admiralty Board hasn't made any decisions. My hands are tied."

"**Since when does a military man let politics stand in his way."**

"You have no idea what I wish, or how our culture works. I follow orders. We have similar backgrounds. I don't have to explain this to you."

"**Right now I don't give a damn about orders. Time is running short. Your people are the pariahs of the universe. You created this mess and you're going to help clean it up."**

"Let the geth have Cintron. Who gives a damn. It's at the fringes of the galaxy precisely where they belong."

"**Something's up. You're taking this too easy. If anyone should want to see an end to things, it's you."**

"Let's just say there's more here than meets the eye."

"**It's Cintron, isn't it? The only significance that blasted rock has is that it's far from civilization. What do you guys have planned?"**

"Read your scriptures. Can't you read between the lines?"

"**Perhaps I can. A friend touched on it. Vengeance is mine, sayeth the lord. But revenge on whom, the geth or the rest of the Citadel nations who've scorned you?"**

"Our conscience is clear. Is yours?"

"**You planted that probe on Cintron! Where the hell did you find it?"**

"The whys and wherefores are irrelevant. All that matters is it's there."

"**It's in the programming. Only the quarians know how to communicate with the geth. You changed the language. What message is being broadcast to them?"**

"All is forgiven."

Daria was right. The quarians can't be trusted. Despite the devastation inflicted upon them, they're trying to make amends with their fallen children. The geth's original intent was as soldiers in a grand design for hegemony. Nothing has changed. The quarians view the universe as one big battlefield ripe for conquest, with synthetic proxies leading the charge. With little risk to their own welfare, they can wage war on a massive scale leaving their targets distinctly disadvantaged, while simultaneously committing subterfuge with the aid of their alliance cohorts. They're proposing a two pronged attack from within and without. Their brazen audacity exemplifies the lack of respect held for others. If these space age Napoleans indeed intend to conquer the universe, it's up to Commander Shepard and the Citadel to enact their Waterloo. It's time for one more call to Cam Hastings.

"**As you can see sir, the quarians are behind everything."**

"I'd suggest destroying the probe, but that might piss the geth off even more. And it's official. A class C cruiser has been detected on route to Cintron."

"**We can't destroy it. We have to turn the tables and use it against them. Someone at the Citadel must know quarian tech."**

"We're working on it. Apparently it's a new language written specifically for this. Of course they had to work within the parameters of the Earth hardware, which is the good news. That lessens the possible variants, but we still have to change the message."

"**Do we?"**

"What are you getting at?"

"**Perhaps the problem isn't the message. Maybe what's important is who gets the credit."**

Shepard may be on to something. For now all the geth knows about the transmission is what it says. They don't know who sent it. Whoever claims credit has first chance at establishing civil relations with them. If the message cannot be altered, the best bet is to transport the probe to a location known only to them and actually meet the geth, an undoubtedly risky proposition. In that case conveyance vehicles need to be dispatched immediately. No way does the Citadel want the quarians crashing the party. The geth's ETA is four hours, sufficient time for the transfer if Shepard and company begin immediately. He needs to quickly coordinate whatever staff and equipment is required and have everything set before their arrival, and he knows just the people to do it.

Due to the marvel of mass relays, everything essential has arrived on Cintron. Amazing how fast things are accomplished when urgency is paramount. A temporary compound has been established for Shepard with satellite feed from the transport team. The biggest obstacle present is the weight of the probe, which is compounded by the planet's dense gravity. Three engineers are diligently at work with a crane attaching titanium cables to its shell. However the first movement reveals a shocking discovery.

"**What the hell is that?"**

"I'm not sure. It looks like…"

"**The damn thing is rigged. Get out of there!"**

Alas it's too late. At that moment a raucous explosion rips out, sending resounding tremors throughout the vicinity. All communication is instantly broken, though no visual confirmation is needed. The entire team is gone. It's now apparent the quarians had no intent whatsoever of making peace with the geth. Their plan all along was vengeance, an eye for an eye, scriptures indeed. The damn fools never stopped to think someone else might be caught in their trap. This heinous act will not go unpunished. The lives lost are mere preamble. And what of the geth? What will they do when they find their new found family destroyed? For all concerned, dark days loom ominously on the horizon.


End file.
